


A Price to Be Paid

by thewightknight



Series: Redemption Is Not a Dirty Word [2]
Category: Aquaman (2018), DC Extended Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 22:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17292692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: The Fishermen come calling for their due.





	A Price to Be Paid

**Author's Note:**

> So it looks like my previous fic wasn't a one-off. Who knows where or when this will end? Not I!

As the days of his imprisonment lengthened into weeks, Orm found he was beginning to look forward to Arthur’s daily visits. His guards would never speak to him, and although sometimes Vulko or Atlanna would appear, it was never with the regularity Arthur showed. Arthur did miss a day from time to time, but always warned Orm ahead of time and would normally spend longer with him the next day.

It was something to break the monotony, he told himself. It wasn’t as if he was actually enjoying the company of his half-brother. It wasn’t as if he worried when, one day, Arthur didn’t show at his regular time.

He paced from one end of the dry rooms to another, then dove into the enclosed pool and circled it, frustration mounting as the recycled water failed to refresh.

He couldn’t tell the passage of time exactly, but he knew the ebb and flow of the people around him, and several hours had passed before his doors opened and Arthur finally entered.

“You’re late.” The words slipped out. Arthur blinked in surprise, then staggered back in an exaggerated motion, clutching at his chest.

“What foolishness is this?” Orm snapped, and Arthur laughed.

“It’s me reeling in shock. You actually missed me?”

“Of course I didn’t, but who else do I have to talk to?” He shouldn’t have said that either. Crossing his arms, he turned his back to Arthur, staring out his window.

“Sorry. Unexpected visitors. I thought royalty was supposed to give notice before showing up at your doorstep.”

Curiosity got the better of him. “Visitors?”

“Yeah. The Fishermen.”

Arthur’s reflection shrugged and he pushed his hair back from his face, his usual arrogant stance somewhat diminished.

“And they are here because …?”

“Reparations.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Orm suspected he knew the answer, but he asked the question anyways. “What are they asking?”

“Well, their first request was your head on a spear. We let them know we weren’t amenable to that.”

“I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“Thank Vulko. He said no first.”

That came as no surprise. Vulko had always been the voice of reason. “And what was their second demand, then?”

“We’re still working on that. Sorry I can’t stay, but I wanted to let you know we haven’t forgotten about you. We’ll all try to drop in when we can.”

“Gracious of you,” he sneered.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you something!”

Arthur waved at the door and one of the guards came in, arms full of surfacer books. They looked old, each bound in leather and stamped with gold markings.

“My father used to read some of these stories to me after mom left. Not from these books, of course. I chewed on ‘em. Here.”

Arthur shoved the stack at him and he took it in surprise. The door closed before he could say anything in response.

Frowning, he squinted at the print on the top cover.

_Moby Dick._

 

 

Mera waited for him in the hall. “Well?” she asked. “Did you tell him?”

“I told him his head would stay on his shoulders, yes.”

“What about the rest of it?”

Arthur gave her a sheepish grin. “I though we should soften him up a bit first.”

“Arthur!”

“Well, there’s no point in bringing it up right now, is there? At least not until Scales stops threatening to skin him alive on their wedding night. And can you blame her?” Taking her arm, he steered her down the hall. “I thought you said they were peaceful people, by the way?”

“Orm seems to have changed her mind about that.”

“He does seem to have an effect on people.”

“You’ll have to tell him, and soon.”

“First we convince the Fisherman Princess not to perforate his kidneys, then we’ll break the news. What makes you think he’ll cooperate anyways?”

“He’s royalty. Political marriages are expected. We were betrothed, remember?”

Arthur grimaced. “Don’t remind me. That makes things kinda weird.”

“That reminds me. My father wants to talk to you tonight.”

Gaping at her, Arthur stopped in his tracks. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Oh, so you’re capable of thought now?”

“I’ll get you for that.”

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing.


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